


Ruins

by miss_nettles_wife



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Other, Violence, everyone is miserable and everything is terrible, future!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3992431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_nettles_wife/pseuds/miss_nettles_wife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been twelve years since Lawson died, and Charlie was never the same after that. Mattie and Danny are determined to find out what he's hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghosts at a Funeral.

**Author's Note:**

> New fic????? New fic! A future fic, even! If you liked it, please let me know! I dig reviews and the like man. Also if you think i'm a bit out with characterization,lemme know.

The funeral is a huge affair. People come from all over to wish the doctor well. Personally, he wishes he'd stayed at home, back in Melbourne than traveling back to Ballarat. The town is full of ghosts, and the people drift like leaves on a breeze. It's a conservative little town, and he doesn't fit  
He never has. 

He doesn't want Blake's ghost to be one of them. He stands next to Mattie at the funeral, she's the only person in the crowd he's really kept in contact with. She's dressed in black. He hates to admit it but it looks nice on her. He's so used to wearing black that he hardly looks any different to his usual self. He's not a pole barer this time. Since the fire, Blake had turned incredibly over protective of the then sergeant, now Superintendent. He supposes, that despite his legs having healed almost one hundred percent, Blake would be trying to protect him, even now. 

They coffin is lowered. He sees Danny Parks. He'd not stayed around long enough after his rehabilitation program to get to know the other man. Mattie liked him. Blake liked him. He was related to Jean. He couldn't be that bad, Charlie thinks, as Danny walks up to join them. He stands on the other side of Mattie. He lowers his head. Mattie hugs him and she cries. Charlie rubs her back with a gloved hand in a vain attempt to comfort her. Danny puts his arms around her as well, effectively pinning him in place. They stand there until people begin to leave, heading to a wake at the Blake house Mattie had organized, being the only one of them to stay in Ballarat. 

Charlie drives them in Blake's old car. It's slow, but it's symbolic of something. He's sure Jean would have appreciated the touch. They let everyone in, and Charlie finds now a good time to vanish from the party. He has no desire to be there, surrounded by people he doesn't know. He locks himself in his old bedroom, and sits on the bed for what feels like hours. 

As he sat there, he considered the events of the past week. He considers Blake's illness, and he considers how it would have effected Jean some ten years ago. It's quiet in here, but he can still hear the faint sounds in the other rooms. They sound like the ghost he is. 

Eventually, the wake ends. 

Danny knocks twice on the door. “Charlie?” He asks softly, “Please come out.” he said, “We...We're having something to eat. I know you didn't have breakfast, and you missed lunch...” He's talking more like Charlie talks. Soft, but firm. It's not really an offer it's an order. He is mildly peckish. (Although he also knows grief robs one of the desire to eat) So he does come out, and goes to the kitchen. There's so much left over food. Every person in the town must have brought something in for them. He nevr understood the custom of bringing food to a wake until today. 

At his mother's wake, there'd only been about ten people, and he'd made all of them sandwhiches. It looks like ten years worth of food sitting on the counter tops. He leans on the door frame, and rubs the good side of his face with a gloved hand. Eventually, the three of them make a plate for themselves. Mattie has two open sandwhiches. Danny has a piece of cake and a slice of pie. Charlie has an apple, and makes himself cheese on toast. When Mattie isn't looking, he takes a slice of cake as well. He never did have a sweet tooth, but apparently, the cake came from the Tynemans and he wants to make sure it's disgusting. (it's actually pretty good, and he's disappointed.) 

~~

“Uh...Is this the Melbourne police station?”  
“Yes it is, this is Constable Sarah James speaking, how can I help?”  
“Uh, this is Chief Inspector Danny...Daniel Parks.” He stumbled, “I'm looking for someone who might work there.”  
“Okay...” Constable James replied, sounding a little put off by him.  
“Uh...Charles..Well he probably goes by Charlie, Davis? Medium height, dark hair, huge scar on the left side of the face?”  
“The...Superintendent?”  
“Bloody hell he did well for himself.” He said, under his breath, “Yes, him. I need to speak with him it's...It's urgent.'  
“Well...he's out on a call right now, but I can take a message for him if you'd like?”  
“Yes, that'd be great.” Danny said, “Tell him...well he won't call me back, so tell him Mattie O'Brian called about the Doctor. Tell him that they're poking around Lawson's case.”  
“Alright...Is that all?”  
“Should be, thank you, Constable.”  
“You're welcome.”  
They hang up without any further discussion. 

“Boss! Boss.” Constable James says, as Charlie stalks back into the station.  
“Yes, James?” He asks, turning to face her.  
“Someone called for you, when you were out? Daniel Parks, but he said to tell you he was Mattie O'Brian.”  
“Did he? Odd.” Charlie said, “Did he leave a message?” The constable nodded.  
“Yes. He said they were poking around a...Lawson? Case, and you should call back as soon as you can.”  
“Well. I think I'll be taking my lunch at home today, Constable.” He said, after clenching them unclenching his gloved left hand.  
He turns to leave when she stops him.  
“Sir!”  
“Yes?” He asked.  
“Lawson...Wasn't he your old boss?” Charlie nodded.  
“That's right.”  
“Is that...How you got…” Constable James tried to start, before eventually gesturing to the side of her face where Charlie's scar would be located on his own.  
“Yes, it is.” He said, “Any more questions, Constable?” She shook her head no, and Charlie left. 

~~

There were three reasons for Davis to be in Ballarat. 

One was the opening of the Lawson case, where he wanted to make sure that things from the past stayed where they belonged.  
In the past. 

The second was the death of Lucien Blake. 

The third was his promotion from Superintendent to Chief superintendent. As long as he went back to Ballarat.  
It was like all the stars had lined up for him.  
And he hated it. 

But more or less, that was how he ended up here, in front of Lawson's old desk, probably eleven years after he left it, holding a box with all the things he'd brought with him from Melbourne. 

“Something wrong with the desk?” A voice from behind him asked. He turned to face Danny and shook his head lightly.  
“No, no. The desk is fine.” He said, looking at his box of things, “It's just….”  
“Where he used to sit.” Danny said, summing it up for him.  
“Mm.” He replied, setting the box down, and walking behind to begin putting things away. Danny put his hand in the box and pulled out an older faded photograph of himself and Lawson a few days after the Munro Incident.  
“You look happy.” Danny said, passing him the photo so he could set it next to the type writer. The context of the photo was that they'd both been wearing civies, and Mattie wanted a photo of them for her photo album. She gave it to him after the fire. He was grateful she did. It was probably the only pre fire photo of him he really liked.  
“Well, we'd just kicked Munro out of power, Mattie and I basically had the whole house to ourselves, I was going to see my Mum that weekend, I was.” He said, running his fingers over the frame.  
“It's in pretty good shape for a ten year old photo.”  
“I normally keep it in my desk drawer, away from the sun.” He admitted. It wasn't the only thing in the world with Matthew Lawson's face on it, but it was the only thing that he had, with his face. That just made it all the more special.  
Danny passed him a handful of paper work. “You always keep your files in your desk?”  
“Actually that's stuff I confiscated from Munro.” He said, “I meant to burn it but I dunno. I kept it. There's a photo of my knuckles when I was sixteen in here I think.” He said, shifting though papers before holding it up for Danny to see.  
“Who'd you pick a fight with?” Danny asked.  
“Anyone and everyone.” He replied, tucking them away in the bottom drawer on his desk.  
“Why'd Munro have it?”  
“He liked to think he had power over people.” Charlie shrugged. “He had files on a few other people as well.”  
“Me?”  
“No, Danny. Not you.” Charlie replied, pulling a package of mints out of the box. “Fancy a mint?” He asked. Danny took one, it wasn't normal for Charlie to share mints. Some people drank. Some people gambled. Apparently, Charlie Davis ate mints. He put them in his desk, and smoothed out the top of it after a moment. He pulled a flask and a package of cigarettes out of the box next.  
“I didn't think you smoked, Charlie.”  
“I don't.” He replied, “They were in Lawson's desk when Mattie cleaned it out. I kept 'em. Dunno why he had 'em. Wasn't like he smoked.” Charlie commented,  
“And the flask?”  
“It's filled with rubbing alcohol. I never bloody have any when I need it.” He said, shaking his head and tucking them both away.  
“Huh. Who'd have known.” Danny said, continuing to look though Charlie's things. It was a rare opportunity to see something about Charlie. He was a very private man, so Danny ate up the chance to learn about him. Charlie collected a second picture from the box.  
“Me and my mother.” He smiled. Danny smiled at the photo. Charlie had to only be a few years old. “I was six. My father was standing next to her, but I cut him out years ago.”  
“Ah.” Danny replied, handing it over. Charlie put it in his desk with a small smile. Danny passed him a handful of papers, which he put in the second drawer.  
“What's in there?”  
“Just...Things.” He offered. “Nothing really important.” He sighed, softly. The last thing in the box is his new name tag. Danny handed it to him.  
“Chief Superintendent Charlie Davis.” He reads, as Charlie set it down on the front of the desk.  
“Hm.” He replied, with a nod.  
Danny looked him over. There always seemed to be an air of sadness around Charlie. If it was from his lost childhood, troubled adolescence or tragic adult life, he got the feeling he'd probably never know.  
~~  
Charlie had no desire to go to the will reading. He didn't think Blake had left him anything ( And if he had then he didn't want it) and he didn't feel like going out. But Mattie insisted he should go, and as he always did when she asked him to do something, he indulged her.  
He put on nice clothes and shined his shoes, and played the part of concerned son beautifully. People liked to forget that he wasn't actually related to Blake. People acted like he was a member of the family. Blake had one child. She would be arriving later today, they'd read the will, and then she'd be back in China before the week was up. 

He still sort of wanted to go to China. See some more of the world. There had to be more then Ballarat, Melbourne and Perth. He didn't have the time to travel now. Or the motivation, either.  
“You can take the gloves off, if you like. We wouldn't mind.' Mattie said, from behind the couch. She sat next to him, keeping a space of about a hand between them.  
“I'd rather keep them on.” Charlie replied, Mattie could see the burn past the seem of the glove and climbing up his wrist.  
“Well...If it gets uncomfortable...Remember.” She offers, threading her fingers together.  
“I will.” He replied, looking straight ahead.  
“Charlie….” She said, softly, “What happened, up in that cabin?” She whispered.  
“Exactly the same thing I've been saying for twelve years.” He replied.  
“We both know that you're lying.” she murmured. “I operated on you. I saw what he did to you, I just want to know, Charlie.” He starred at her for a long minutes.  
“He didn't do anything to me. He protected me.” Charlie said stiffly. It was as if saying Lawson's name was a taboo. As if her were a curse. 'Even if I was hiding something, I'd hardly want to tell you when we’re about to collect Blake's kid from the airport.”  
“Sorry, sorry.” Mattie replied, and kindly patted his knee. “Maybe we can talk about it later?” She offered. Charlie made a non committal MMM noise in reply. 

“Alright! Are we ready?” Danny asked, finally showing up.  
“We are now.” Charlie replied, getting to his feet, and helping Mattie to hers. “You take longer to get ready then I do.” He said, as the three of them made their way out the door. Danny took his bike. Charlie took Mattie in a police car since nether of them trusted that thing, or Danny, who's driving skills admittedly needed work. 

~~

Charlie only really takes three things away from the will reading.  
One, he'd left Mattie the house.  
Two, he'd left Danny his car, and a sum of money.  
Three, he'd left Charlie with a sum of money, and the contents of his office.  
Everything else, as far as Charlie was aware, went to his kid. Not that she hadn't earned it. 

They go back to the house. Mattie stands in the front room for a long time while Charlie does his best to make Blake's girl comfortable.  
He goes to bed early. 

~~ 

The sun is barely above the clouds when he gets up. He always likes to be up before the sun. He changes slowly into his running gear, and pauses, for the first time in some months to examine his body. He starts with his face. The left side is marred by an angry burn scar that crawls down his face like an ugly caterpillar. The burn was deep, and still occasionally gave him a phantom pain in his jaw, reminding him of having to be on a diet of essentially watery orange juice for about three months.  
His left shoulder has an ugly, twisted scar from when he was shot. It's probably his least favorite scar. Not that he has favorites, per say, but this one he hated most.  
He looked at his hands. He's already put his gloves on. He only takes them off to shower.  
His left calf has burns all down the side, initially, they'd thought he'd never walk, much less run ever again. He showed them, of course. He always did. 

He ties his shoes, and does his hair, before starting his morning the way he had when he lived in Ballarat the first time. 

He uses the time it takes to walk up Blake's well, Mattie's now, Driveway to stretch and prepare himself for a run. Mycroft Avenue is a long street, which Charlie always liked. He jogs up the street to the corner, where he turns and goes left. He passes a house with two large dogs out the front. They bark at him, like they always have. He used to bark back. He doesn't today. He just runs. And runs. And runs. 

He runs far away from Blake's house. He runs out into the city. His legs hurt. His lungs burn. He feels alive. As much as he tried to hide it, he'd been a ghost in a man's skin for the last ten years. Keeping heavy secrets had dragged him down, and his fear of the surface kept him under. 

He runs and he feels like a whole new person. As if he didn't have a huge disfiguring scar on the side of his face. As if he'd been married and had kids. As if his mother wasn't dead, his brother hadn't followed and his other brother didn't hate him. He felt like he was free. Like all the hatred and sadness melted away to reveal Charlie Davis underneath, sparkling with life and joy. 

He stops running, and it goes away again. He supposes that's the way it's always been. It's only now that he realizes he must have run far, far away from the house. Behind him, a car beeps and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He shakes his head. It wasn't a car. It was a bike.  
“Jesus Parks.” He sighed, putting a hand on his chest. Danny slows down at the curb to offer him a smile.  
“You ran a long way, Davis.”  
“I'm good at it.” He replied, “Lost track of time.”  
“You want a lift home?” Danny offered.  
“I don't trust your heap of crap bike.” Charlie retorted. Danny drove next to him as he walked on.  
“Well, would you like me to walk with you?” He asked, Charlie starred at him for a long, long moment. It was strange to have people try and be his friend after being on his own for such a long time.  
“Come on Charlie. I'm not that bad of a driver. Do you want to go to the graveyard? The pub?” Blake had left him his member ship at what ever that club was he liked to visit. Charlie'd only been there about three times and he'd hated it there. Maybe he could give it to Danny.  
“Only if you do me a favor.” Danny scoffed but nodded.  
“I want you to say 'Matthew Lawson.'” Danny frowned at him for a very long moment but shrugged.  
“Fine. Matthew Lawson.”  
“Thanks.” Charlie replied, and hopped onto the back of the bike. It felt nice to hear the name someplace other then his memories.  
“Where do you want to go?”Danny asked.  
“I don't care. Just take me some place.” He sighed, hooking his arms around Danny's waist.


	2. Breaking Down Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where is Parks, then?” Hobart asked.   
> “Well, he tried to talk to me about Lawson, so I sort of ran away.” Hobart can't help but laugh at Charlie's comment.

And Danny does. 

He drives Charlie though the town, around streets and corners and signs he doesn't know. Charlie feels a little bad for making fun of his driving, he's actually pretty good at it. They drive eventually, to the graveyard. Danny pulls to a stop, and lets Charlie hop off first. They don't talk, because Danny has no idea what to say and Charlie just doesn't talk much in general. They wander, occasionally stopping to look at a grave, before stopping at Lawson's. 

“Why do I always end up here?” Charlie asked, as they stopped in front of it.   
“At Lawson's grave?” Danny asked.   
“No. In Ballarat.” He sighed. “No matter how hard I try, or what I do, I always end up talking about Ballarat. I cannot bloody escape this town.” He said, sitting on the damp ground by the grave. “Twelve years, I've tried to move on, but the universe is determined that I can't.” Danny sat next to him, after a moment.   
“Well. Maybe you have unfinished business?” He offered. Charlie scoffed and put his head on Danny's shoulder.   
“Maybe. What do you propose I should do about it?”  
“No idea.” Danny replied, looking down at the other man.   
“That makes two of us.” Charlie mumbled. They both sit there for a long time.

“I never did hear the full story, about what happened to him.” Danny said, starring at Lawson's grave. “Mattie says he really messed you up. Blake said he protected you. Who was right?” Charlie was quiet for some time after that.   
“You lot are shameless, aren't you?” He asked, “Blake was right. Lawson tried to protect me from the fire.” He said.   
“I just want to know what happened.” Danny replied, holding his hands up in a surrender position. Charlie let out a long sigh.   
“Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you.” He mumbled. “I'm just...Ready to move on.” He said, “I'm just so finished.” He mumbled, “With the whole affair.” He said, starring off into space for a moment. “But..Fine.” He murmured. “I'll tell you the story.”

......  
“Boss are you really sure about this?” Charlie asked, shining his torch over the room, looking for a sign that something might have been wrong. “I mean...The evidence is pretty circumstantial.”  
“Davis, how many times have you said that since you've come to Ballarat.” Charlie tilted his head and admitted defeat.   
“Alright. You win.” He relented, looking to his left for any signs of well. Anything. “I just don't know if drug dealers would ever leave their stuff lying about.”  
“Well Charlie I've convicted off less.” Lawson replied, shining his own light where Charlie's was.   
“Hm.” He said, but it had no malice behind it. The light hearted conversation ends there, when a large pipe like object (He would later know it was a night stick) came down hard and fast on his skull. 

He's only awake for small periods over the next couple of hours. He can recall Lawson being beat, apoogizing to him, and then the next time he's awake, it when the place is burning.

He chokes on smoke and has to push a body off of him to get out. The corpse rolls with little need. Charlie doesn't need to be a police surgeon to know that it's Lawson. He can barely drag himself out of the small shed and onto the grass outside. The fire rages on. He turns half way to face it. 

...…  
He's glad to get rid of the cane. Having been limping around with it for over six months, he was so glad when he was finally able to throw it away and be done with it. He walks slowly to the living room, and finds the only person home is Mattie. “Charlie!” She said, standing and insisting he should sit. “What have you done with your cane?”  
“Got rid of it.”  
“Oh my god.”  
“I'm kidding. It's on the bed. I just wanted to walk without it.” he smiled.   
“Sit here, Charlie I'm getting the cane.”  
“I don't need it.”   
“You nearly fell down just now, you utter peanut.” She said, getting to her feet.   
“Mattie sit down!” Charlie asked, sounding a slight desperate, “I just want to pretend for a little while.” he sighed, “I'll pick it up before Blake gets back.” In the past year or so, Blake had become overprotecive, one might say, of Charlie, and Charlie found it annoying. Mattie personally found it a bit endearing. “God knows he'd have a bitch fit if he thought I was trying to challenge myself.”  
“He cares about you, Charlie. I have no idea why this is so hard for you to understand.”  
“I'd understand better if his caring about me didn't mean keeping me in bed for an extra month.” Mattie shook his head but did sit back down. Charlie actually having a bit of emotion in his voice was a nice change, and even if he was probably a danger to himself and those around him, she was prepared to let him have some freedom for the next fifteen or so minutes.   
“What are you reading?” he asked a few minutes later. Apparently, in his dash for freedom, Charlie had not brought anything to do with him.   
“Medical book.”  
“What about?”  
“Rashes.”  
“Any photos?”   
“This is a text book, Charlie. Unlike you, some of us actually graduated fourth grade.”   
“Uncalled for, Mattie.”  
“Whatever.” She replied, and turned the page. 

“Liar! There are pictures in there.” Charlie said, leaning over into her space to look. “That's disgusting.”  
“That's you.”  
“Rude, Mattie. We can clearly see it's meant to be you.” Mattie laughs, but she stops suddenly when a car pulls up in the driveway. Charlie is up on his feet, and stumbling back to his bedroom, laughing all the way.  
...

“So that's it.” Danny asked. “You really can't remember anything else?” Charlie shook his head.   
“Same story I've been telling for ten years. But sill no one believes me.' He commented, sadly.   
“So if that's the whole thing?”  
“Yes.” Charlie replied, “Why would I lie?”  
“Because we now that it's not what happened.” Charlie let out a frustrated cry and got to his feet. He started to stalk off.   
“Charlie!” Danny said, jumping to his feet and walking after him.   
“Leave me alone!” Charlie said, angrily. He wiped his face furiously and continued storming out of the cemetery. Danny runs after him, and walks quickly next to him. “I told you to leave me alone!” Charlie said, voice raising.   
“Charlie I'm sorry. We just want to know the truth.”  
“Did Mattie put you up to this? Ask you to follow me around and try and gain my trust?” he asked. Danny didn't answer. He didn't have to.   
“Coming to Ballarat was a mistake.” He said, furiously wiping his face. He's not crying, but Danny thinks he may well be on the verge of it.   
“Charlie come on, calm down.” Danny said, breaking into a job to keep up with the distressed superintendent. Charlie is having none of this. He breaks out into a sprint. Danny tries to keep up with him, but no one can run as far as Charlie Davis, and Charlie easily looses him, and himself, apparently in the town. He eventually does slow down. He has too. He walks though the town, wiping his face every so often to make sure no tears have fallen.   
“You're a mess.” The voice in his head that sounds enough like Munro to make him uncomfortable.   
“I am.” He agreed, turning another corner. He was a huge mess, but at least it didn't spill out very much. Not any more. 

…  
Coming home has less of an impact on him when he's not coming home to anyone. His mother had died a year after he came back to Melbourne, and so had one of his brothers. The remaining brother was still angry about him for his choice to remain in Ballarat while he recovered from his burns. Charlie found that he did miss Ballarat. And he missed Blake. Sitting on the floor under the flap where his letters fall is a small white envelope addressed with Bake's handwriting.   
Another one.   
Six years later and he still got one every month. He taps it on the back of his good hand for a moment, before walking to the empty sitting room and putting it down on the coffee table. He made himself a cup of tea and carried in the box full of neatly filed letters in from his bedroom. He'd never moved out of his childhood bedroom. It never felt right.   
He sits there and holds it for what feels like a year. “Dammit, Charlie, it's a god damn letter.” he said to himself, before opening it quickly. He ran his fingers gently over the surface. He'd never written back or called. He couldn't. He just couldn't.   
'My Dear Charlie. 

I hope you've been taking care of yourself up in Melbourne. I know the winter gives you trouble for your leg, make sure that you rest it up. I also hope you haven't been wearing gloves too much, you know that the constriction isn't any good for them. 

One of Mattie's nurse friends saw you in the hospital earlier in the week for some broken fingers. What happened, are you alright? I know you like to pretend that you're okay, but it's fine if you aren't. I'm always here if you need to talk, and so is Jean. 

At the moment, we have a fascinating case about poisoned apples in a pie, but Hobart wants me to keep out of it. Mattie and Danny have been a huge help in solving cases, as they always are. But they miss you as well.   
We all miss you, Charlie.   
Christmas is just around the corner, you should consider coming down, we still have a room for you, of course. Let me know, the phone number's the same as it always been. 

Your friend.   
Lucien Blake. '

He stares at the letter for a long time, before putting it back into the envelope, and then putting it in his box of letters. He does consider going back, but in the end, he doesn't.   
Blake's letters keep coming, but he never writes back. 

….

Behind him a car horn beeps, causing him to whip around, ready to give Danny a piece of his mind, only to find that it was in fact a car this time. And Hobart was driving it. He slows next to him, and drives next to him for a long time. Eventually Charlie is forced to stop and pay attention to him. He opens the car door and looks in at him.   
“What.” He demands, looking at the retired Superintendent with miserable eyes.   
“Wasn't sure the papers got it right. Good old Charlie Davis returns to Ballarat?” Charlie starred at him for a long moment.   
“Obviously.” He said, after a long moment.   
“Shouldn't you be at work?” Hobart asked. Charlie shook his head.   
“Day off.” He said, finally. “I'm supposed to be at home making sure that Ballarat doesn't kill Blake's daughter.” He said.   
“You think they would?”  
“Yes.”   
“I'm not surprised. “Hobart said, “Get in, I'll drive you back to Blake's place.” Charlie looks around, before climbing in.  
“Why would you be nice to me?” He asked, with a slightly grim expression.   
“Because I'm glad you got the job over Parks.” Charlie shook his head and ran a hand though his hair slowly. “Even if your haircut is a bit stupid.” Charlie looked mock offended.   
“At least I have enough hair for a hairstyle, Baldy.” he shot back. Hobart gave him a good nurtured laugh.   
“Why are you all the way out here if you're supposed to be at the Blake residence?” He questioned.   
“I went for a run, lost track of time.” He shrugged, “Of course, then Danny came and collected me.” He said.   
“Where is Parks, then?” Hobart asked.   
“Well, he tried to talk to me about Lawson, so I sort of ran away.” Hobart can't help but laugh at Charlie's comment.   
“You ran away?”  
“I out ran him, and then I got lost.” Hobart shook his head.   
“Been too long since you were in town.”   
“I was hoping to never come back.' He admitted.   
“And yet you still did.”   
“Seems there's no way for me to escape this god forsaken town.” Hobart smiled at him, and shook his head.   
“No, there isn't, is there?” Charlie looked out the window.   
“Is it true? You took an early retirement because someone reported you?”  
“Either this or going back to being a constable. And there's no way in Hell I'm going to serve under Parks.” Charlie laughed softly. “My turn, is it true you had a moment of sentimentality when you unpacked your desk?”  
“Yes. I could explain it, but you wouldn't understand.”  
“I wouldn't?”  
“You didn't know him like I did.”  
“And how did you know him, Charlie?” Charlie looked at Hobart and the other man could almost swear that he was seeing stars in the smaller's eyes. “Did you love him?”  
“Didn't we all?”  
“Did you want to sleep with him?” Charlie actually gave him a happy laugh this time.   
“Didn't we all?” Hobart shook his head and looked out at the road.   
“I have no idea how you can still be so loyal to him, even after he shot you in the arm.” Charlie suddenly pauses.   
“How do you know that?” he asked, making it apparent his happiness was very much a facade.   
“You told us.” Hobart said, after a moment.   
“Did I?” Charlie challenged. He'd kept that detail very much to himself. Hobart starts to realize what he's done. Charlie looks at him for a long, long moment. “Because I don't think I did.” Hobart pulls over. Charlie looks at him. “You knew what they were doing to him.” Charlie whispers, and then looks very hurt all of a sudden, and then very angry not a second later. “You knew!” He shouted.   
“Get out.” Hobart said, softly.   
“How could you let them do that to him? How could you let this happen?” He kept shouting, “Who told you he was the one who shot me? The big one? The small one? Or were you there? Did you help them?” He shouted, but Hobart didn't budge. People have started to stare at them now. Charlie doesn't care.   
“Get out.” Hobart repeats. “Get out, or I will drive both of us into a ditch.” He said. And Charlie didn't think he was joking, even if the threat did come off a bit hollow. “What will your precious Mattie do then?” Hobart asked. Charlie hangs his head for a long moment, before getting out. He stands and watches Hobart drive away. He stands there for what feels like hours but was more likely minutes. People stare at him for a moment, before leaving him there. 

He does start walking again, eventually. He tries to walk off his anger, but he can still feel it under his skin, as well as the mounting desire to drive his fist into the face of anyone who looks at him funny. He, of course, does not. He can't get involved with that sort of thing anymore.

He keeps walking back in the general direction of Blake's place, his feet hurt now, and his legs feel shaky under him. He can feel tears welling up again, before hearing a third beep behind him. “For Gods sake!” He said, turning around to find Mattie parking the car by the road and hurrying to get out. She ran towards him and pulled him into a hug. “Mattie what the hell?” He asked, after a second, and then hugging her back.   
“Danny said that you were leaving!” She said, sounding worried, “You can't, you have to stay.” Charlie pulls her close after a moment. “He told me that he wanted to talk to you, about the fire.” Charlie attempts to pull away, disgusted. She holds him closer   
“But it's okay! It's okay.” She said, still holding him close. “Please don't go.” She said, suddenly sounding much smaller then she actually was. “I can't lose anyone else, Charlie. Please don't leave me here...With the ghosts. With the memories of them.” Charlie pulled her closer after that.   
“I wouldn't dream of it.” he murmured, mostly into her hair. He understood in that moment, about living with ghosts and memories.   
“And you...You can't keep shutting yourself away. Let me help you back.” She said, softly. Charlie didn't reply, he was scared he'd start to cry if he did. 

......

After then, months pass in some kind of blur. Time doesn't work the way it used to. Mattie gets back to her old self. She reopens the surgery, but more like a therapists office then a doctors surgery. Danny doesn't ask again about the fire, and Charlie...Well he feels like he hasn't changed at all. 

He doesn't go into Blake's office.   
No one goes into his mother's studio.   
No one talks about Lawson, Jean or Blake. 

......

And apparently Danny broke down before he did, that'd be a first. 

He only got back to the house at about midnight. He'd sent Danny home hours ago, but didn't follow after for what seemed like years. He was so tired.   
He drags his feet when he gets in the door, being as quiet as he could, but the soft music told him Mattie was still up. She'd taken to waiting for him to come home. She just liked to make sure he was okay, it was unexpected, but not unappreciated. 

 

He looked into the office to find her working on Blake's overcrowded desk. She's writing on the typewriter. “You're up late.” He commented, leaning on the door frame.   
“So are you.” She bit back. Charlie laughed gently, and moved in to sit across from her.   
“How was your day?”  
“Long. Yours.”  
“Fantastic, I have to bend over backwards to bloody please people in this town.”  
“Tyenemen on your back?”  
“Him and Melbourne. Did I mention?”  
“Yes, several times over the last few months.” Before Charlie can rustle up a reply to her, he can hear the sound of something shattering. They both stood.   
“Danny?” He called, as they both hurried in the direction of the sound. Something else smashes, and Charlie can hear something that sounds like Danny yelling. They both run in the sound of the noise, only to find themselves in front of Blake's mother's studio. Even though it had been cleaned up somewhat, it was still what it had always been. The door has been locked and Danny has the key. Charlie has to open it by jamming his shoulder up against it until the lock breaks. Mattie looks distressed by the sound, but he gets it open. 

Upon entering the room, both of them saw the same thing. Danny was sitting in the middle of the room with an empty bottle of something (Unlike Blake and Lawson, Charlie had never really enjoyed drinking) in his left hand. When he noticed Charlie and Mattie, he stumbled to his feet.   
“What?” He shouted, “Haven't you ever done interior decorating?” he shouts, smashing his bottle onto the floor.   
“Danny!” Charlie said, running forward, but Danny kicked him in the leg when he came close, and despite Charlie's best attempt to block, he still went down with a thud, but he took Danny with him. Fastening Danny inside his arms, pinning his hands down, Charlie had him pinned. Danny tried to grab onto his arms, or make a mark on him but Charlie held onto him.   
After about two minutes, Danny started to cry. Charlie let him go, and Mattie pulled him into her arms. Charlie collected a dust pan and broom to sweep up the mess that Danny'd made of the place. 

Mattie took Danny to bed, while Charlie finished doing his best to get all the little glass shards up off the ground. 

…  
“You're such a baby.” Mattie said, as she dug small fragments of glass out of Charlie's forearms.   
“Shut up.” he replied, “You have those little bastards actually inside my arms.' Mattie chuckled at him,   
“It can't hurt that much.”  
“Well it does.” He said, as she tapped the tweezers on the little basin.   
“He didn't mean to.”  
“Yeah. Right.” Charlie said, shaking his head.   
“Charlie.” She warned.   
“He could have hurt you, Mattie!” Charlie exclaimed, not because he was yelling, but because his voice strained as she 'accidentally' jabbed him with the tweezers.   
“What and you don't care that he hurt you?”  
“No, I don't.” She gave him a skeptical look.   
“Sure.” She said, as he flinched. “Okay.”  
“Oh stop that.” he said, with a sigh.   
“And say he had hurt me, what would you have done?”  
“Beat him up.”  
“You?”  
“I could, if I wanted.”  
“You wouldn't hurt him.”  
“You're right. I'd probably just throw him out. “  
“Not your house.”  
“Alright. Even so.” Charlie grumbled. “I'd do something to him.”  
“And if I didn't want you to?” She asked, as she started to dab at his injured arm with antiseptic.   
“Even if you didn't want me.”  
“I'm so lucky to have my white knight looking out for me.”  
“Yes you are.” he replied, between hisses. She taped the gauze onto him and chuckled at him.   
“I have no idea when you're kidding or not, Charlie.” She said, before taping gauze over the injury. “Other arm.” She said, and he handed it over, with a sigh. Thankfully, his forearms had been the only casualty for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes sir another chapter down. Poor Charlie, I think it's probably just downhill for him from here. At least Mattie still loves him I suppose.   
> Anyway, exciting news, i got my s3 DVD. Wow did I miss so much stuff. (Are people seriously not gonna talk about Charlie's Daddy and Munro? Plz talk to me about Munro and Charlie. ) Anywho. If you have a moment and you're enjoying my out of order story attempt, please leave a comment! Really makes my day! (Yes the story is meant to be told out of order in those little 'flashback' segments.


	3. We Were Born to Die Either Way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think they'd tell us to pass them the bottle” He commented. Danny smirked at him, and sat up to take another drink. He smiled.   
> “We're ruins, you know? Pretty to look at, but nothing compared to what we could be.”  
> “I didn't know that you wrote poetry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N FYI this chapter was probably my favorite to right! I actually really love Charlie and Danny interacting. What if I wrote Danny/Charlie. Who else would be down for that?   
> Any comments questions or concerns, feel free to contact me, especially if you aren't over Lawson's ID photo!

Eventually, he decides to clean out Blake's office. Danny doesn't want to help, but Mattie does. “He cleaned most of it out before he died.”  
“Yes, I expected that.” He nodded.   
“What are you going to do with anything you find?' She asked, as he started going though a cabinet full of bottles.  
“See if you or Danny want it, and if not, sell it.”  
“And spend the money on what?”  
“Popcorn machine for the club?” Mattie smiled at him. More recently, Charlie had begun to be a bit more friendly, and show a little bit of personality. It was a nice change. She appreciated it.   
“I'm sure Tyneman would love that.”  
“He hates me anyway.”  
“What did you do?”  
“Nothing, as far as I know. He just hates me on the premise that I drink too much lemonade. “  
“Ah.” She replied, as Charlie tossed an empty bottle into the bin.   
“How's the surgery going?” He asked, going up on tip toes to make sure the shelf was empty.   
“Fine, have a few returning customers, it would seem.' Charlie smiled at her, and then started on the second shelf.   
“Excellent.” He said, before picking up more bottles. “Why so many bottles?   
“He liked to drink.”  
“He was meant to stop drinking.” Charlie said, tossing another empty one into the bin.   
“I think he said something 'the drink kills us but we were born to die anyway.”  
“Funny. Lawson once said the same thing about smoking.”  
“Maybe they were right.” Charlie shuts the cupboard, after arranging a few of the prettier bottles neatly. Charlie gives a non committal MM in reply, and walked across with the bin to the desk. 

Mattie helps him clear some boxes that have been sitting there since Charlie first moved in. “You know maybe he left me these because he wants me to have to lug them around one last time.” He commented, looking though a box of patient files that probably hadn't been used since about 1935.   
“There's a Davis here, any relation?” Mattie asked.   
“Probably not.”  
“Really?”  
“Well in case you haven't noticed, a name like Charlie Davis is hardly uncommon like...Lucien.”  
“Alright, good point.” She replied looking though the file anyway. “Apparently, they came to Blake's father with a stomach ulcer and was killed in a car crash later that year.”  
“Lots of car crashes in this town.” Charlie said, thoughtfully.   
“There's more in Melbourne.”  
“True.” Charlie replied, putting the box on the floor to go though the box under it.   
“Would you look at that, Mattie.”  
“What?”  
“More bloody bottles.” Mattie can't help herself. She bursts out laughing. “I thought he might leave me something useful, but nope. Apparently bottles.” Mattie keeps laughing, Charlie shook his head and put the bottle into the bin with the other ones. “I mean seriously, I don't think I've ever even seen anyone finish a bottle of Scotch before and I come in here and they're falling out of the damn cupboards.” Mattie keeps laughing. Charlie just shakes his head and opens up the top drawer of his desk. “Papers, papers, a lighter, and oh! Would you look at this? Another god damn bottle!” Mattie sits down in the desk chair, as Charlie finds a smaller bottle under the papers. As if he suddenly caught up with her, he starts to laugh himself. He sits up on the desk to laugh harder, Mattie had tears streaming down her face and Charlie started to get the hiccups, which simply made her laugh more. 

The phone rings. Mattie's laughing too hard to answer so he has too. “O'Brian residence.” He said, as he keeps trying to stop the laughter.   
“Superintendent? There's a man here to see you.” Ned said.   
“Well tell him it's my day off.” Charlie said, still trying to get himself under control,   
“I tried. He won't leave until he sees you. Says his name's Munro. Says he knew your father.”  
“Right. Well tell him to sit tight. I'll get Danny and we'll come in.” He said, his laughter stopped right away and Mattie wonders if he was even really laughing at all.   
…  
Munro is sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk when he and Danny ( Who was complaining, but logically knew he should go as well to make sure that Charlie didn't kill the other)   
“Ah. William Munro.” Charlie said, as he and Danny walked. “I see no one shanked you in prison.” He paused, and shook his head. “Disappointing.”  
“Always a beam of sunlight, Davis.” Munro said, and stood to shake his hand. “This is…?”  
“Oh you don't know him. Danny? Satan. Satan? Danny.  
“Still holding a grudge, I see Davis.”  
“Bloody hell.” Danny said, “You're the great and powerful Munro?” He asked.   
“Is that how they describe me?”  
“He's a little more colourful, normally. What do you call him, Charlie?”  
“Not anything I'd say in front of a lady.” he said. The constable at the desk gave him the finger, and Charlie doubled over laughing. Danny covered his mouth. Munro had never even seen Charlie smile in the time he'd known him so seeing him laughing was a strange experience. It took Charlie a moment to get himself back under control.   
“What the hell were you and Mattie doing to put you in such a good mood?” Danny demanded.   
“Ahh...I'll tell you later.” He smiled, and moved around behind his desk. “Now Munro. What do you want?”  
“Your father'd be proud of you, he'd say something about at least one of us turning out okay.”  
“Are you a psychic now, Munro?”  
“...No?” He offered.   
“Then don’t try and talk for my father. What do you want, Munro?” Charlie demanded.   
“Fine. I want the files that you took from my desk.”  
“They were confiscated and destroyed by Lawson, and even if for some reason, I did have them, why would I give them back?”  
“We both know that Lawson conducted the interview while you cleared out my desk, and even so, I know you still have them.” Charlie took the files out of his desk and set the three of them down. One of him. One of Lawson. One of Blake.   
“Here.” Munro put his hand out, but Charlie smacked his down on top of his.   
“I don't think so.”  
“They're mine.”  
“They're top secret.” Charlie replied. Munro looked at him with a bizarre fiery expression.   
...

He opens the desk and starts going though the papers, trying to see what was worth keeping and what was garbage. He felt like crap. He normally avoided thinking about his father.   
He throws a bunch of used prescription pads out. He also takes out a lock of Mrs Blake's hair, a small wooden box that he didn't bother opening and a bottle of scotch with a fancy label on it. Mattie puts them all in a cardboard box to keep them safe. She understood why Charlie's mood had been going downhill all afternoon. Danny was the same.   
“Does this drawer look small too you?” He asked, taking it out of the desk and putting it up on the flat top.   
“...No?” Charlie pulled her around.   
“See how tall it is? Doesn't it look a little shallow on the inside?” She looks.   
“Huh.” She said, “Of course, you would notice that.” Charlie shakes his head and picks up a letter opener from the desk to pries the bottom of the drawer up. Mattie watches, clearly as interested as he was.  
As the box opened up, he picked up the lid, and tossed it off to the side.   
“These look like photos.” Mattie said, picking one up. “Of you.” She murmured, as Charlie frowned. He turned the photos over to find the date had been scratched off.   
“Hm.” He said, as Mattie started to look though them. Charlie was still going though the drawer.   
“Charlie.” She said before showing him the photo. It's a photo of his upper body, with a hand pointing out the bullet wound. He starred at it for a long moment. It was taken just before he went in for surgery.   
He looked dead. He took the photo from her, and slid it back into the file. “You probably weren't meant to see that.” She gives him a sad look.   
“It's been twelve years, Charlie. Whoever you're trying to protect, they don't need it anymore.” He looks at her, and for a second, she thinks he might tell her, but he shakes his head and sets the documents down. He doesn't say anything.   
He doesn't have too.   
“Charlie.” She said, softly, putting a hand on his arm. He turned to face her, his eyes were slightly wet.   
“Can't you just leave well enough alone?” He asked, dragging the back of his left hand across his eyes miserably.   
“I want to help you.” She said. “I'm so tired of watching you die in your own skin.”   
“Well, I miss Lawson.” He said, with perhaps a little too much force behind it. Mattie put a hand on his arm. He looked at her for a long, long moment.   
“We all do. I know that it was different for you, but Charlie you don't have to be alone.” He starred at her for a very long time, before pulling her into a tight hug. Charlie rarely initiated any kind of physical interaction, and Mattie had no idea what to expect, but he just stood there for about ten minutes, holding her tightly, making small sounds that she identified as him trying not to cry. 

......

“It'll get easier.” Blake told him, as he pushed Charlie though the corridors of the hospital to the room set up for rehabilitation.   
“So everyone keeps saying.” Charlie groaned. Having been in bed for pretty much the last eight months, his arm had healed enough that he could use it again. The two bars look ominous. He hates them, and what they stand for. Blake stops him towards the center of the rails and moves to stand in front of him.   
“Alright, Charlie you know the drill.” He said, “Arms up.” Charlie put his hands on the rails and tried to push himself up. “Alright, nearly there, good job.” He said, as encouragingly as he could. Charlie let out a strained little gasp as he was able to get to his feet. Blake helped him lower himself back down. “There we go.” he smiled, “Good work, Charlie.” Charlie just grunted at him in reply.

......

He can limp pretty fast on his crutches. Building up his muscle tone had taken a long time, but the freedom of being able to move himself from place to place made it worth it. He had Danny put the wheelchair under the bed so that it would get dusty and covered in cobwebs. He doesn't miss it, even if they all still treat him like he's made of glass. 

“Are you sure you'll be okay?” Jean asks, covering his legs with a blanket. He learned early on that when Jean wanted to mother hen you, then she would mother hen you regardless of what you said or did.   
“I'm going to be fine.' He smiled, settling down. Jean nodded, and sighed.   
“Should I pop the TV on for you?”  
“No thank you. I'll be fine, if I want to watch TV then I'll do it myself.” He assured her, picking up his book. “Now go, or you'll miss your movie.” He warned. “And it's not even like I'll be alone for long.” He reminded Jean, “Danny'll be back in fifteen minutes. And Mattie'll be back before you.” He smiled. Jean patted his cheek lightly.   
'Be good.” She said, before turning to face Lucien. “We'll be back before nine oçlock.” Jean said. Charlie nodded, and waved then out the door. 

It took five minutes for things to go to hell in a hand basket after they left. 

There was a knock at the door. Charlie sighed, and got to his feet slowly, before limping his way to the door.   
“Alright, alright, I'm coming!” He called making his way to the door, He expected it to be Danny with the shopping. It wasn't. After opening the door, Charlie was faced with a tall man in a trench coat. Charlie stares at him. And he stares at Charlie. The man looks just like Lawson. Lawson, whom Charlie has managed to keep out of his mind for the last year. The man turns. And he runs. Charlie limps after him as fast as he can but he is easily lost not even halfway down Mycroft Avenue. He slowly limps back into the house, and then after a moment, calls for a cab. 

It's lucky, that Danny got caught up at the store. If he'd been home only five minutes before, he probably could have stopped Charlie from going. And maybe would have been able to keep him in Ballarat. But he didn't. And Charlie got in the cab, and went to the graveyard. 

......

Danny is half an hour late getting home from the shops. Mattie is an hour late coming home from work. They turn the house inside out looking for him before they have to call the Rex to page Jean and Lucien to say that Charlie is missing. 

Jean cries. Mattie panics, Danny tries to make a list of people who would want to hurt him. 

Blake gets in his car and drives. 

......

Charlie sits in front of it, hands in lap, eyes forward. As if starring at the rock would bring the man back. Blake goes and sits next to him on the damp ground.   
“You gave us all a shock.” He murmurs, looking at the stone in the darkening daylight.   
“Sorry.” Charlie replies, not moving.   
“It's okay.” Lucien assures him and puts an arm around the smaller's shoulders.”Why come out here?” Charlie shrugged lightly.   
“I thought..I thought I saw him. At the door.”  
“Did you?”  
“I don't think I did. I think I might be losing it.” Blake comforts him as well as he can. They're quiet for so long.  
“It was him, wasn't it, that shot you in the shoulder.” Charlie looks at him with tearful eyes.   
“I know, Charlie. I compared the bullets still in his gun to the one I dug out of you.” Charlie wiped his eyes and put his head on Blake's shoulder. He nods.   
“I assume that you won't tell me what happened?”  
“I promised I wouldn't.” He murmured,   
“Promised who?”  
“Him.” Charlie replied. “That would ruin him.”  
“I don't think he cares.'  
“It would ruin his name.”   
“I won't tell.” Charlie watches him for a long moment, before he nods slightly.   
“I miss him.” He said, softly.   
“I know.” Blake promised.   
“It should have been me.” Charlie said, “Not him.”  
“Should it?”  
“Yes. I ruined everything. If I hadn't gone there...He'd still be here.” Charlie whispered, and sat up to wipe furiously at his eyes. Blake pulled him close, making sure that it was the good half of his face against his shirt. Charlie cries.   
And he cries.   
And he cries. 

......

He goes back to Melbourne as soon as he's better. He doesn't even say goodbye.   
And he doesn't look back. 

......

He never looks back. 

...…

“He missed you.” Danny said, as they sat in the living room. They're both quite drunk, and Charlie doesn't care.   
“Okay.” he said, taking the bottle from Danny and taking a long drink.   
“Yeah...He did. He talked about you all the time. He really wanted you to come this Christmas. Had a special gift for you.”  
“Ha.” Charlie replied, pulling a face at the bitter drink, and giving Danny the bottle back.   
“He was always writing you letters...”  
“I know.'  
“You never wrote back.”   
“I didn't want to. I wanted to stay in Melbourne and move on.”  
“He didn't like you living all alone.”  
“And if I was here, he'd be keeping me in bed and never letting me try and live on my own terms.”  
“He was only protective because he liked you.”  
“Didn't help the Doc in the end did it? Didn't help Mrs Beazley either.”  
“She went by Mrs Blake in her later life.'  
“I know. I just….” Charlie sighed and took another drink.   
“You never married did you?”   
“No.” Charlie said, “No woman would ever want a man with so much baggage.”  
“I thought you were just capitalizing on being mysterious.” Charlie smiled and passed him the bottle back. Danny put his head on Charlie's shoulder. “For whatever it's worth, Charlie, we're ruins.” Charlie took the bottle from him and took a longer drink.   
“I'll drink to that.” Charlie said, passing him the bottle back. Danny had had a bit more then Charlie, and was talking loudly, while Charlie had a dusting of red along the apples of his cheeks.   
“I think Ballarat really messed us up.” Danny said, as he took a drink, and then lay back down, this time actually in Charlie's lap. “God they'd be disappointed in us.” Charlie laughed a bit and took another drink.   
“I think they'd tell us to pass them the bottle” He commented. Danny smirked at him, and sat up to take another drink. He smiled.   
“We're ruins, you know? Pretty to look at, but nothing compared to what we could be.”  
“I didn't know that you wrote poetry.”  
“Maybe there's a lot you don't know about me.” Charlie has to admit that he's write. He really doesn't know too much about Danny.   
“You're right.” He said, taking the bottle from Danny. He wipes his mouth, and decides that Danny's right.   
They are ruins. 

….  
He's very formal when he comes to see Hobart. He's not sure what he's going to do, but he knows that it will probably be dangerous. Hobart opens the door and he looks tired. Any other time, with any other person, Charlie would have thought that he was guilty. But Hobart is almost as good of a liar as he is. And Hobart knows he knows. 

“Superintendent.” Hobart greets. “You're here about Lawson, aren't you.” It's not a question. Hobart knows that Charlie is more persistent then anyone else he'd ever met. 

“Should I come in?” He asked. Hobart nodded and stepped aside. Charlie followed him, and sat on the sofa. Hobart starred at him.   
“He wasn't meant to die.”  
“I figured that. How were you involved.”  
It was my operation. You live on a police man's wage, Charlie. It's hardly enough.” Charlie has no desire to hear Hobart try and play the victim.  
“It's chief superintendent to you.” He stated.   
“So that's how it's going to be?”  
“Just tell me, Hobart, and maybe I'll only break three of your limbs.”  
“He found out. Threatened to shut me down. I just thought he'd cover for me, you know? Like he always had.” Charlie sighed, but gave a nod.   
“Alright. What changed?”  
“I don't know. He wouldn't have a bar of it. He was going to take it to Melbourne so I said that I'd drag you down with me.”  
“Me?”  
“You. He really liked you, Davis. Enough to die for you.”  
“Apparently.” Charlie replied. “How much did you know?”  
“I was only there when he shot you. I didn't tell them to kill him Jesus. I just wanted them to mess him up, and then you had to go and get yourself involved, like you always do.” Charlie sighed and shook his head. “Well it's true. You probably had your hand in every single pie in both Melbourne and Ballarat.”  
“Is that so?”  
“And I wanted to bring you into it. He wouldn't let me, and he started to let things slip so you'd find out.”  
“Ah.”  
“If you'd just stayed well enough alone, then this never would-” He doesn't get to finish his sentence because he's suddenly pinned under Charlie. He pulls his fist back, ready to strike the man, but pauses. Hobart flinches.   
“You're disgusting.” He said, with a sneer.   
“What are you going to do to me?” Hobart asked, as if he was daring Charlie to do something. So Charlie dropped him, and stood up.   
“Nothing.”  
“Nothing?”  
“Lawson would have told me not to waste my time on the likes of you.” He said, tilting his head and cracking his knuckles. “Ten years ago, I would have beat you to a pulp, but now...Now I think I'd rather watch you spend the rest of your life knowing what you did.” He said, before sneering. “But if you ever try and smear his name, come into my station, approach Mattie O'Brian or Danny Parks again, then I will do much worse then kill you.”  
Hobart flinches. Charlie turns his back. And walks out to the car. He doesn't look back.   
He never looks back. 

 

….

“Morning.” Charlie greeted, as he made his way into the kitchen. He'd been for a run and showered already. He looked fresh and ready to face the day.   
“Morning.” Mattie replied, taking a sip of her tea. Charlie carried the kettle in the sink to refill it.   
“Charlie, don't look now but Munro is in the living room.”  
“What.” He said, and turned halfway around.   
“I said don't look, you idiot! “ He turns back around.   
“Why?” He hissed, “Who let him in?”  
“Danny did! He wants to talk with you.”  
“Why now?”  
“I don't know. Go tell him to leave!”  
“It's your house!”  
“Go!” She said, and pushed Charlie towards the room. Charlie shook his head and walked in. Munro was sitting on the couch, as still as a statue. Charlie stood awkwardly at the door before going and sitting across from him.   
“The Doc would have had a bitch fit if he saw you in here.”  
“I suppose it's a good thing that you aren't the Doctor then.” Munro replied.   
“Maybe.” Charlie said, and sat back in his chair.   
“I think about you a lot.”  
“Hm.” Charlie replied, “I can't say the feeling is mutual.”  
“It was you, wasn't it. Who found that photo.” Charlie nodded.   
“Lawson didn't want my name on the investigation. He didn't want Ballarat to hang over me.”  
“It didn't do much for you in the end, did it?”  
“No, not really.” He said, with a shrug. “Why are you I town, Munro?”  
“I just want to know why.” He said, finally. “Why did you chose them, over me?”  
“I didn't chose anyone over anyone.” There was no choice, Munro. And even if there was, I made it a long time before you were in town. I was always on the doctors side.”  
“Even when you were spying on him?”  
“I had to make sure you trusted me.”  
“You're a good actor.”  
“I had everyone fooled. “   
“You did, yes. And you have them all fooled now. “  
“I should have known that's why you were here.”  
“You hear it a lot?”  
“I don't understand why I cant just move on.” He said, softly.   
“Because you aren't ready. “Charlie looked at him for a long time. “And the only way you'll be ready is if you get it off your chest.”  
“Thanks Satan.” Charlie said, shaking his head. “Are we done with the sermon now?”  
“No. I want my files.”  
“I told you, they're off limits.”  
“I'll give evidence of you lying to the police.”  
“And I'll give evidence of you badgering a police man.”   
“You don't have to hate me just because they did.”  
“Munro I'd have hated you anyway.” He said, “Goodbye now, I have to get ready for my job.”  
“We''ll meet again, Charlie.” Munro stated. 

“Sure.” Charlie replied, getting to his feet. “Whatever.” He said, before shuffling Munro out of the door. Mattie stuck her head in, and Charlie offered her a shrug before returning to the kitchen.   
“He's an asshole.” Charlie sighed, “but he might be right about one thing.” he said.   
“What's that?” Mattie asked. Charlie looked out the window for a long moment.   
“I am a good actor.” He sighed, before looking out of the window. “I did have everyone fooled. Even you, Mattie.”  
“And you're fooling us now?” Charlie gave her a weak smile.   
“Maybe I am.”


	4. And I Hope to God He Was Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Munro, and we both know that if you were actually going to turn me in you would have done it by now.”  
> “Maybe I underestimated you.'  
> “People always do. You wouldn't be the first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N This was originally going to be part of the last chapter, but I decided at the last moment to make it it's own chapter, haha. Anyway, Munro and Charlie's dad is probably base camp for the rest of the gay police man mountain, lol. As always, comments are always wanted, feel free to contact me if you want to talk about Dr Blake or whatever. Especially if you're still emotionally compromised by Hobart acting brotherly towards Danny.

“You make wonderful potatoes Charlie.” Danny complimented, as he took a second helping from the red dish in the middle of the table.   
“They're okay.” Mattie replied, taking a sip of her juice.   
“The harshest critic.” Charlie sighed, and sat back in his chair. Danny laughed, with his mouthful. It made Charlie chuckle at him, while Mattie just looked at him annoyed.   
“Danny that's disgusting!” She said, and passed him a napkin. “Seriously.” Charlie took a sip of water. Somethings don't change, apparently. Danny stabbed another potato, mostly to just annoy her. Charlie feels a little like an outsider, despite their best attempts to include them. He takes another sip of water, and set the glass down while Mattie started clearing away the plates, including Danny's from under his fork. 

Outside the door, there was a loud knock.   
“We do have a doorbell, don't we?” Charlie asked, getting to his feet.   
“We do.” Mattie agreed.  
“Why don't people ever use it?” Mattie shrugged. Danny shook his head.   
“And...Who's calling at seven in the evening?” He asked, “Do you have a patient?” Mattie shook her head.   
“No...Not today.” Charlie dragged himself towards the door.  
“Alright, alright! I'm coming!”  
Charlie opened the door. Munro stood there, looking right at him. The man looked dead on his feet, with thick bags under his eyes and a white knuckle grip on his file.   
“Davis. I hope you're not busy.”  
“No...Why?”  
“Well I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this.”   
“Do what?”   
“Report you for lying to the police.” Charlie's pale face went paler. Mattie and Danny were looking around the corner, with wide concerned eyes. Charlie picked up his coat from the door and put it around his shoulders.   
“Let's do this outside.” He said. Pulling his coat on, and looking back to Mattie and Danny. “You two...Wait here.” Munro has begun to walk outside, and Charlie has no choice but to follow him. 'And no matter what you hear, don't follow me.” He said, softly, and then turned to follow Munro out into the chilly night. 

“Out of all the people to lie to the police, Charlie, I'd never have thought it would be you.”  
“Well takes one to know one, Munro.”  
“Charlie….You know...I found it a bit odd, how localized...your scars are. I mean...One cheek. One hand. One leg. And no joints. Your eye and ear were fine. Even your fingers weren't that bad. Now why is that? If you were lying in fire, then wouldn't it be more likely for your whole face to be burnt? Eye and ear included?”  
“Maybe. Or maybe I'm just very, very lucky. “ Munro opened up his file.   
“You were pretty dirty, when you were put in for surgery. According to your records, you suffered from an extreme infection of the shoulder. Of a bullet wound, infact. One that you have never given a statement in regards too.” Munro held up a photo from inside the file, a blown up one from inside Blake's office. “Found this in hospital records for someone under the name of Charlie Davies.” He said, “That's your ear, isn't it, Charlie?” He asked, pointing at the photo. Indeed, Charlie's ear with the extra cartilage is clear on the paper. “And...You know that witnesses saw you in front of Lawson's house, late that fateful day...” He listed, and flicked though the thick file. “Here's all the evidence I have on you, Davis. And I'm going to hand you in.”  
“You'd ruin me.”  
“Takes one to know one, Davis.”  
“Well...You can do that, or, you can do what you really came here for. A trade. You give me that, and I'll give you your files. Except it's not the files you really care about. It's one file in particular. A file that contained a journal, and a single photograph. I'm getting a bit of deja vu, Munro. This wouldn't be the first time that a photo and a journal ruined you, would it?   
“You think your smart, Davis? How did you know that's why I was here?”  
“Well...I imagine you thought that Lawson destroyed my father's damning diary, and the photo, but I can also imagine you having contacts on the station, who told both you and Hobart about when Danny and I unpacked my desk. I also imagine that your contact told you that I was hiding something there. So you waited. Waited until you had gathered just enough information on me that you could strike. You asked, but of course, I didn't bend, so you had to take it to the extreme.”  
“Have you read the dairy, Charlie?”  
“Yes.   
“Then you know why I have to make sure it's destroyed.  
“Is that so?”  
“I don't want the rest of my life ruined by you.”  
“I didn't ruin anything, Munro, and we both know that if you were actually going to turn me in you would have done it by now.”  
“Maybe I underestimated you.'  
“People always do. You wouldn't be the first.”  
“So give it to me.” Charlie held out the file with the diary ad photo. Munro reached for them, but Charlie threw them onto the ground. Munro abandoned his file to grab them. Charlie collected his, and tucked it away.   
“My father loved you.”  
“And I loved him.” Munro said, having frozen on the photo. It contained a very blurry photo of Charlie's Father and Munro. It didn't look too damning. Until you noticed their joined fingers.   
“I wonder what he would think of you now.” Munro didn't reply, so Charlie looked away, back to the house where he could see Mattie and Danny looking at him through the window. He turned around and started to walk inside.   
“You must think I'm pathetic.” Charlie paused, and turned halfway to see a slight tear in Munro's eyes.   
“I already thought that, Munro. This doesn't change anything.” He said, “But the funny thing is, I didn't have this, until about a couple of months ago. I inherited it from Blake.” Munro gasped when he looked up. “He was a firm believer in second chances, the doctor.” Charlie said, softly. “No matter what.” He murnured, “He would never have used love against you.” Charlie turned back away. “And neither would I” Munro looked at the photograph again, and Charlie walked back inside. 

After he took of his coat, Mattie was infront of him. “Charlie! Are you alright?”  
“I'm fine.” He promised, taking the file out of his pocket. She insisted on checking him over quickly. “Mattie I'm fine I swear!”  
“What did you give him?” Danny asked.   
“A file.”  
“What did he give you?”  
“A file.” Mattie rolled her eyes. Charlie looked at the one in his hands for a long moment.   
“Is the fire burning, Danny?” Danny nodded. Charlie never had anything to do with the fire, he never went in the room when it was lit, and he certainly never lit it.   
He walked into the studio, and tossed the file inside, but not before tucking a photo of Lawson away inside his pocket. Danny watched from the door.   
“Is your secret really that bad, Charlie?” Charlie moved away from the fire quickly.   
“I don't know.” He admitted, before looking back at the fire as it ate his file. “But I'd rather not find out.”  
“And I'd rather you not end up like him.” Charlie starred at him for a long time. He didn't say anything. The fire plays with the light on his face and for a moment, Danny thinks that maybe he can see a young Charlie Davis, hidden behind angry eyes. One he never knew and would never know.   
“Thank you, Danny.” He said, softly, before gently touching the burned side of his face. “You know...That I love you, don't you? Both you and Mattie. And any choices I make...I do it to protect you.” Danny stares at Charlie and then nods.   
“Yes, I did hear that you were very loyal to your friends.” And Charlie nods. Because he is. He always has been.   
“Yes. My friends.” he agrees. H clenches ad unclenhes his hand a couple of times while he watched Danny from the middle of the room. After a moment, Danny turns away. He pretends not to notice Charlie burying his face in his gloved hands. 

…

It's a touch of lips on lips, the wall behind him may well not exist, and the two of them could be floating though the universe, unattached and unnumbered. Together, they were a hurricane of poor choices and love. Fingers together made up a seal of promise, tangled legs to prevent the other from floating away. Purple stained bruises on his hips paint a mural of activities, the same way his dull nails leave a trail to be walked by memories alone. They can't stay together long. It's tragic and beautiful. It's a storm waiting to blow open all the windows. And he's not sure he would have it any other way. “Jesus William, what time is it?” they ask instead of a greeting. It's not a beautiful love, paved with flowers and kisses, and it probably ruined him.   
But it deserved to be remembered all the same.   
And Munro does just that.   
…  
“This is a gentlemans club, Superintendent, we drink alcohol.' The voice behind him says. Charlie doesn't even have to turn all the way around to recognize it. He takes another sip of his lemonade.   
“I don't see it saying anywhere in the rules that I can't have lemonade if I fancy it.”  
“Part of the newest generation of mess makers, are we?” A second voice joins. “Don't waste your time on him, Edward. That lot doesn't listen to anyone. “ Charlie knocks back the last of his drink and turns all the way around.   
“I'm on call, thanks.” he said, “I mean, I could drink, if you want, but that would put not only my own life, but that of anyone who places a call in danger.” He said, rather calmly.   
“Shouldn't you be at home then? Looking after your girlfriend?”  
“My what?”  
“Don't play dumb, Charlie. The O'Brian girl is dating one of the pair of you, and I think it's you.' Charlie turns back around to face Stu.   
“Two lemonades, please. I think my friend here needs to sober up.”  
“Charles...” Edward said, “You do know that stories go around about the three of you? People talk.”  
“People in this town do little else.”  
“I don't know if it's different, in the big city, but in this town...”  
“Yes yes, I've heard it before. Her reputation is at stake, people think that I'm a homosexual, I am aware.” He said, taking a sip of lemonade. “Sadly for the gossips, however, my private life is my private life. The only thing that people really need to know about me is that I'm a damn good police man. “  
“I'll give you that.” Edward said, finally, as his father moved away.   
“If we're on the subject of gossip, Ed, where did your father ind the fountain of immortality?”  
“What?”  
“How is he not dead when the Doc, Lawson and Jean, who were all in much better shape then he, have all kicked the bucket?” This makes Edward chuckle.   
“Charles, your guess is as good as mine.” He offered, and took the offered lemonade.   
…  
“Charlie! Be careful!” Blake said, as Charlie got to his feet.   
“I'm fine, Doc!” He said back, leaning his weight on the cane. As much as he hated it, he was forced to admit that it did infact have it's uses.   
“Walk slowly!”   
“Doc! The letterbox is not that far away!” He exclaimed, perhaps with slight malice, “And Mattie is coming with me, don't worry.” He smiles. Blake gives him a slight look, before nodding. Danny takes half an uneaten piece of toast from Charlie's plate. The reason it was uneaten was because Jean insisted on giving him double the amount of food then he probably should. 

“You don't need to hold the door.” Charlie said, as he stepped out onto the patio.  
“Yes I do.” Mattie replied, as they started the walk out to the mail box. Charlie made it easily. He didn't really understand why everyone acted like he was going to break. He looked up, to see a man at the end of the driveway.   
“Mattie, who's that?” He asked, looking out at him.   
“Who's who?” Mattie asked, taking the mail from the box.   
“That man.” Mattie looked up and sighed at him.   
“Charlie...There's no one there.” Charlie looked back to find she was right.   
“Oh.” She took him by the good arm gently.   
“Let's go back inside.” She murmured, and Charlie nodded.   
“Of course.” he said, softly.  
He never took Mattie up on her offer to get the mail again.   
…


	5. It's Time to be Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They give Lawson a shovel and tell him to dig.   
> He does.   
> Down.   
> And down  
> And down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter! Wow! if you can guess where they title comes from...Congrats! You have amazing taste in music! Any comments questions or concerns, feel free to contact me.

When he arrives home, there is a letter on the floor. He picks it up, and checks the address. It's from Ballarat, but it's not in the Doctor's handwriting. It's in Jean's. He gives a sigh, and sets it on the kitchen table. E takes off his gloves, and washes his hands in the sink. It's hot and his hands sweat a lot this time of year, he supposes being covered in leather pretty much all the time doesn't help. He just hates that when people look at them, they all start to pity him. He doesn't want pity. He wants to be a good police man. 

He opens the letter with a butter knife, his hands shake. There are two pieces of paper on the inside. A letter, and one he's scared to open. He opens the letter first. It turns out that it's not infact a letter,but an invitation. He reads it over, and finds that it's an invitation to Jean and Blake's wedding. He reads it over, and then reads it again. It didn't come to him as a shock. He'd always sort of known something like this would happen between the two of them. He's supposed to RSVP by the end of the month, and he's meant to let them know if he's bringing someone with him. 

He opens the second slip of paper, and finds that it's a picture, of Blake, Jean Mattie and Danny and he thinks that they look like a real family. Father, mother, two beautiful children, and he wonders if that makes him the secret under the bed. 

He leaves the invatation on his table, and runs himself a bath. He really does want to attend the wedding, after all, it would be a bit rude of him not to. He waits for the bath to fill. He does the exercises he's meant to do to prevent his leg from seizing up. He slid into the yellowed tub, and then goes under the water, so he's looking up at the age worn roof, with a bit of mold growing there since it'd never been cleaned as far as he could recall. He feels weightless and heavier then he'd ever truly weight. His hair floats around his head and forms a chestnut crown, and his eyes don't blink. It's just him and the ghosts, down here. He stays under even though his eyes burn and his lungs scream for air. The burning tells him that he's still here. That he still has a life to live and people to save. He stays under for as long as he can, until every single pore in his skin fills with water, washing out the hate and replacing it with a deep sense of apathy. He feels miserable. 

He misses the doctor. 

He's dialed the number at least four times now. But every time he gets to the last number, he stops because he's not sure he's actually going to say yes. He's gotten so used to the way that his life was meant to go that when presented with a slight change, he panics. He's disgusted with himself. He dials the number again. It rings on the other end, and someone picks it up. “Dr Blake's Surgery.” He doesn't reply. He just hangs up the phone and stares at it. He eventually leaves it be, and quietly goes to bed in a room that smells like mothballs and apparently, the smell of mothballs reminds him of sadness. 

He sends his RSVP via letter. He doesn't attend the wedding. 

…  
It was a chilly morning. His leg was giving Charlie strife, and he was probably operating off of about four hours of sleep. He watched Mattie eat her breakfast for a long moment, before Danny joined them.   
“Something wrong, Charlie?” Mattie asked.   
“Hm?” Charlie asked, blinking.   
“You've been starring at me since you came in here.”  
“Sorry. Just tired. Didn't sleep well.”  
“I'll second that.” Danny said, pouring himself a glass of juice. Charlie watched them for a long time, and realized, that he didn't want to end up like Munro. So buried in secrets that he couldn’t exist without them.   
“Come for a drive with me.” He said, rather suddenly.   
“Where?” Mattie asked, with a frown.   
“Just...Out.' He said. Danny finished his juice and shrugged.   
“Sure.' Mattie siged, but nodded. “Just bring me back by lunch, I have a one thirty appointment.” Charlie nodded, and stood. Danny grabbed his coat from the door, and they both followed Charlie out to Blake's car. 

 

They sit in front of the gutted shed. Danny is here in uniform. Charlie isn't. Both Danny and Mattie give him all the time he needs. They promised not to rush him into it. They slowly leave the car, and move forward towards the small, two room shed. It's cold outside. It's winter. Charlie's limp comes back. He sits on the grass. Danny and Mattie both follow. They stay quiet.   
“It didn't start here.” he said, finally. 

......

He'd been noticing something off about Lawson for weeks. It'd been easy to link him to the drugs, his prints were all over it. It was all in his car. He had no idea what to do, how to protect him. Maybe there wasn't any. Of course, then someone died, and Charlie knew he had to act. 

One of the men in the operation turned up dead. Hobart wanted answers. Lawson looked pale in the face. He looks scared, and Charlie knew, he knew he couldn't let anything happen to him. 

The door to Lawson's place was open. He walks in, and looks around. “Boss?” He calls, moving towards the living room. Nothing.   
Bathroom. Nothing.   
Kitchen. Nothing.   
There was something in the bedroom. Lawson is kneeling on the floor, with his back to Charlie.   
“Don't come any closer!' Lawson called, and Charlie stopped.   
“Boss, it's over. I know.” he said.   
“I imagine your superiors in Melbourne will love hearing about this. You'll probably get a promotion, bringing down and entire drug empire BY YOURSELF!” He shouts. Charlie clenches and unclenches his hand.   
“I didn't tell anyone.” He promises.   
“You should. Always knew you were a shit cop.”   
“Lawson I know something's going on. I can help.”   
“There's no salvation for me anymore.”   
“There's always going to be salvation for you.” They stand here in the stalemate for a good five minutes. Charlie steps into the room.   
“Get out of here, Davis.” Lawson said, from the floor.   
“I won't leave you here.” He murmured.   
“If you come any closer I will shoot you.”  
“You're bluffing.” He said, taking another step. Lawson whipped around, and shot him.   
......  
“I was only awake for periods after that. I heard him beg with them...To spare me, that I was just a boy and I didn't know any better.' He whispered. “They told him to pick me up and put me in the back. 

......  
His eyes open halfway.   
“Oh Davis.” He said, “I'm sorry. I tired so hard. I did my best.” He said, the road is bumpy. Lawson holds his body closer. “Why didn't you listen? Why didn't you listen?” He pleaded. 

......

“We came up here.” Charlie murmured. “Let me show you something.” he said, standing and walking towards the side. Two shallow holes were engraved in the dirt. They made him dig these.” Charlie said, softly. “Although, they were deeper wen I was last here.” He said, and then moved into one and sat. Danny sat next to him, and Mattie remained standing. 

He lay back in the grave, starring up into the sky, and Mattie wonders if she actually does want to hear the rest of the story. 

......

It was raining, that night. It had been overcast all week, and the Doctor had been complaining about how it affected a foot he broke during his time in service. But at the time, that wasn't what Charlie was thinking about. He lay in Lawson's lap, the older man smoothed his admittedly bloodly hair back from his face and looked at him with tired and sad eyes.   
“You weren't meant to be involved with this.” He murmured, shutting his eyes and running his bloddied hand over his face. “Why did you have to go and care so much?” he murmured, as Charlie was barely able to focus. “I'm so sorry, I hope...I hope you can forgive me.” He murmured, as they arrived at their destination. The big one grabbed Charlie by the scruff of his shirt. He was pale, bloodied and hardly breathing. He wouldn't live long without assistance.

They give Lawson a shovel and tell him to dig.   
He does.   
Down.   
And down  
and down. 

......

They throw Charlie into the hole, his body collides and it knocks the air from his lungs. He gasps like a fish. Lawson begins to shovel the dirt on top of him. He dreams about this more then he dreams about the fire. 

The grave is filled.  
......  
He opens his eyes and looked up at the sky. He sat up, and looked over at Danny, and then to Mattie.   
“They made him dig his own grave.” He whispered.   
“They buried you alive.” Mattie said, softly. Charlie nodded.   
......

He used his good hand to try and move the dirt away from his face. He could take small breaths, but the dirt on his chest is crushing him. The dirt is loosely packed, and it's not easy, but he can scoop it towards his feet. The oxygen is running out. He's going to die down here.   
He starts reaching up into the dirt, up and up and up clawing at the mud, and trying to get out. He's feeling dizzy. He doesn't want to die here. 

Then suddenly, his fingers break the surface. 

......

Charlie sits up, and puts his head on Danny's shoulder. Danny, after a moment, puts an arm around him. 

......

He dragged himself to the surface, fingers clawing at the ground. He takes hold of the shovel Lawson used to dig the hole and drags himself into the shed.   
They're killing him.   
One has a nightstick. The other some kind of big stick. Charlie gets the first one with the shovel, and fights with the second one. He knocks Charlie down and tries to hit him with the nightstick. Charlie kicks him off and then kicks his head until it's a pulp on the ground. He throws himself at Lawson.   
“Please hold on! I'll find help, Lawson!” he shouts, but it's too late. He's too weak, probably going into shock. Lawson was too far gone, anyhow. He dies in Charlie's arms.   
......  
Danny rub his shoulder, while Charlie dabs at his own eyes, and looks at hi damp fingers. He looks back at Danny, who holds him closer. “He died...While I held him.” he murmured. 

......

He burnt the place down using Lawson's lighter and a bottle of Kerosyne. He burns Lawson first, then put him atop himself, and shut his eyes. He was expecting to die here. 

......

“So that's it?” Mattie asks, softly, “The whole story?” Charlie nods   
“Yes.”  
“Why didn't you tell anyone?” Danny asked, quietly.   
“I didn't want to smear his name.” Charlie whispered. “Or his daughters names.” Mattie nodded, and smiled at him.   
“Thank you for telling us.” She said,   
“Well it's not like I had a choice.” He replied, slightly bitterly.   
“Are you going to tell the police?” Charlie shakes his head.   
“I already had the case closed again.” He said.   
“Shall we go?” Danny asks, standing, then helping Charlie up.   
“Can you drop me off at the cemetery?”  
“I'll take you there, if you want, but I won't leave you there.”Mattie said, softly. Charlie gives her a small smile, and then with Danny's help, climbs out of his hole.   
None of them look back.   
......  
Lawson's grave was grey and simple, with a very simple 'LAWSON' engraved on the surface. The rest is hidden under grass. Charlie always hated it. He had always wanted a better monument of his friend to be his memory.   
Lawson steps up beside him, and looks at the grave as well. Charlie looks up at him, taking in the messy hair and smear of blood on his left cheek.   
“Look at you, Davis. You're hallucinating.”  
“I'm pretty sure that hallucinations aren't meant to say that they're hallucinations.”   
“Sorry.” Lawson offered in reply. “Where's Parks and Miss O'Brian?”  
“At Jean's grave. We're meant to meet back at the car in twenty minutes.” Lawson nodded.   
“I see.” He offers.   
“Was it you?”  
“Was it me when?”  
“Back then, at the door. “  
“Well given that you're having a hallucination right now I'm not sure I would trust my memories.”  
“Alright touche.” Charlie offered, and smiled at the grave. “I told them.”  
“All of it?”  
“No.”  
“You should.'  
“You're a hallucination. Shut up.”  
“Fine.”   
“They don't hate me.”  
“I know.”  
“I don't hate them, either.”   
“I know. You know, Charlie, I didn't think you were coming back to Ballarat.”  
“Neither did I.”  
“And yet here you are. “  
“I suppose.”  
“You've been alone for a long time. They love you. And I think you love them back.”  
“Maybe.”  
“You don't have to be alone forever. It's time to be letting go.”  
“I don't want to. I'm not ready.'  
“You've been ready for a long time. You're a ghost of a man, you can't live like this.”  
“I don't want to forget you.”  
“You won't, and you know it.” Charlie nodded, and wiped his face with a shaking hand. “Tell me, would he be proud of me?”  
“Of course I am, Davis.” When Charlie looked up at him to smile at him, he was gone.  
......  
Across the graveyard, a figure in a trench coat, a curious fashion choice for this season, stares at him And he stares back. He's presented with a choice. He could swear black and blue that the figure was Lawson, he could see it.   
He was presented with a choice. Keep his obsession going, pick Lawson and break his heart all over again, or pick Mattie and Danny, his friends and new found family. 

......

“I can't, Doc!” Charlie cried out, as his arms shook under his weight. He can't move his legs that much, he cannot possibly take one more step. He's going to fall. He's going to trip. His jaw aches. His shoulder aches and he should not be putting so much pressure on it. He can't do it.   
“One more step, Charlie.” Blake repeats. “One foot in front of the other, come on.” He can't there's no way he possibly can. He tries, he tries so hard but the bad shoulder gives way and he falls into Blake's waiting arms. He gives a sad and frustrated sigh. Blake helps him sit back in the chair he's come to hate so much.   
“You did an excellent job.” Blake comforts, rubbing Charlie's shoulder as he moves around to the handles at the back to push him away from the bars.   
“Not really I only took two steps.”  
“Two steps is better then no steps.” Charlie sighs and he knows that the Doc is right and he should really just be happy with what he could achieve.  
“When can I go home?” He asked.   
“Back to Melbourne?”  
“Anywhere that's not here.”  
“The end of the week, should everything go smoothly.” Charlie sighs again, and rubs his face with his good hand.   
“I feel pathetic.” He said, after a brief moment.   
“You're recovering from being shot in the shoulder, and then nearly burnt alive.”  
“That doesn't help, Doc.”   
“I know.” Blake sighed.   
“Thanks...For staying with me.”  
“You're welcome, Charlie.” Blake assured him, as they returned to the room that Charlie was starting to think felt so much more like a prison than any prison he'd ever actually been into. And he had been into more then his fair share of prisons. 

......

He opens his eyes. They burn. He can hear voices but he has no idea who it is or what they're saying. He tries to talk, but every minute twinge of his jaw hurts disgustingly. He can't move his head, he realizes. It must be secured in some kind of brace. He's alive, he realizes, perhaps a few moments to late.   
“Charlie?” The voice says, now he can properly realize that it's Mattie that's speaking to him. “Are you thirsty? Just blink twice if you are.” He blinks twice. A straw probes gently at his lips, but opening his jaw sends a radiating pain through his whole face. But the pay off of water is worth it, he decided, and is a little reluctant to let it go. “There's no shortage of water, Charlie.” She said, softly, and pulled his good hand into her own. He doesn't want her to see him like that. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. He might be crying, he thinks, as he feels small fingers just under his eye on the good side of his face.   
“Go back to sleep, Charlie.” She said, softly. Charlie complies, and hopes life is better when he wakes up. 

He wakes up again, he doesn't feel any better. Any movement of his face hurts like the devil itself. There's no blanket over the burned leg, but he can't move his neck enough to see how it was. He can hardly move at all, infact.   
“Charlie.” A voice next to him said gently. He turns his eyes left to see Mattie looking at him with an expression of concern. “Are you thirtsty? Blink twice.” He does, and he appreciates the water. He doesn't have the strength to stay awake much longer, but he does notice Mattie's gentle hands. 

He briefly wonders if this is what having a sister feels like. 

......

He stares at the figure, and the figure stares back. He makes his choice, and he shakes his head slightly. “I can't. Not anymore. You know I can't.” He doesn't apologize, because he can't see any shame in choosing the life he'd made for himself over the self destructive path of obsession he'd become so unwittingly engrossed in.   
He turned his back, and he didn't look back. He never looks back. 

......  
“Do you think that was the truth?” Danny asked, starring at Jean's grave.   
“I don't know.” Mattie sighed, softly. “Maybe. I think it was partly truth.” She murmured, as he put an arm around her shoulders.   
“I'm glad I'm not the only one.” he sighed. “He's a strange man, Charlie Davis. “  
“Hm.” She agreed. “But we do know one thing about him.”  
“What?”  
“Something happened between him and Lawson in that shed, and whatever it was, he's taking it to his grave with him.”  
“You're probably right.' Danny agreed, and checked his watch. “You think he'll come to the car, or will we have to go get him?” Mattie shrugged, and let him lead her to the car, where Charlie was already sitting inside.   
And she thinks that this may well be a new start. She opens up the front seat door and looks back at him.   
“You feeling okay?”  
“Mattie I feel fantastic.” He smiled, “Now, I think we should have fish and chips for lunch. You two?”  
“Fine by me.” Danny said, giving Charlie a smile back. Mattie nods and thinks, that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.


	6. And They Haven't Seen The Best of Us Yet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Dear Matilda
> 
> I will not be able to attend the funeral of Jean Blake. My deepest sympathies towards her family and friends. 
> 
> Charles Davis'

There's a piece of paper in front of him, and the funeral notice by his other hand. Palm flat on the table, fingers bent slightly with tight burnt skin. Jean Beazley is dead. He has no idea what to do, what to say, there is nothing that he can say to make anyone feel better. He doesn't want to go to the funeral of a woman he shut out, and locked away. He doesn't want to have to explain himself to her husband, who would no doubt be broken hearted at the loss of his second wife. He doesn't want to talk to Danny, her broken hearted nephew, but maybe he can talk to Mattie. She's probably as broken hearted as everyone else ,but she was also very smart and might understand him better then anyone else. 

He tried and he tried to write the letter, but he could only make his fingers write a few words. 

'Dear Matilda

I will not be able to attend the funeral of Jean Blake. My deepest sympathies towards her family and friends. 

Charles Davis'

It's strange, signing it with his full name, because no one as far as he can remember has ever called him that. But he just can't accept that they might still consider him a friend, after all he's done. She writes back, months later, but he never reads it, not for months. Not until Christmas time. And even then, he'll be damned if he can recall one word of what she said, before he tore it up and flung it out the window. 

…  
“Charlie, how are you feeling?”  
“I'm fine, Doc.” He said, with a little smile. Bake pulled his chair out for him so he could sit.  
“I can do it myself, Doc.” Charlie said, sitting at the table.  
“I know you can...Just dont want you to strain your hands.”  
“My hands are fine.”  
“I know, I know.” He said, before pouring Charlie a drink from the jug on the table.  
“Are you kidding?” he asked, after a moment. “I can pour my own drink.”  
“Most people like being fussed over, Charlie.” Mattie commented.  
“I've been fussed over for the last eleven months.” He sighed, and clenched his good hand.  
“After dinner, we'll have to change the bandage on your hand.” Blake reminded him.  
“I know, I know.” Charlie sighed, and shook his head as Jean served him what he swore must have been triple what everyone else had. “I can't eat all of that, Mrs Beazley.” He sighed, softly.  
“Nonsense. You need to put on all that weight you lost, Charlie.” She was right, he had lost a lot of weight while he'd been in hospital, but this was getting a bit out of hand. He looked to Mattie for help. Mattie just smiled at him, and he sighed.  
Charlie doesn't have much to add to the discussion at dinner, and he doesn't eat everything on his plate. He doesn't go out very much. It's such a hassle to get the wheelchair Blake had insisted he stay in from place to place, and even when he did go out, Blake was constantly annoying him with questions about how he was feeling and if he was tired, was he in pain, did he want to go home, did he feel sick, did his leg hurt…..It just went on and on. He did know, deep down in his chromosomes that Blake was trying to protect him, but that didn't really make him feel any better about it. 

 

“Charlie!” Danny called from the front room. “You have mail.” Charlie still had his toothbrush in his mouth when he took it from Danny.  
“Thank Oww.” He said, before heading back to the bathroom. Danny shook his head and continued sifting though the mail separating mail that was for Blake, mail for him, (nothing) and mail for Mattie. 

Charlie finished his personal hygiene routine within about ten minutes, he always took a long time in the bathroom. He was, and always had been a rather vain man. He dressed himself, before heading to the kitchen to see what he could do for breakfast. He decided that he wasn't in the mood to make anything and instead cut himself up a green apple from the fruit bowl that Mattie always spent dressing up so it looked nice. ( And he always spent time eating the piece of fruit that would mess up her hard work) He looked down at his letter and let out a long sigh. It was from Blake.  
One last letter.  
He wasn't sure if he wanted to open it up or not. Mattie, opposite to him, gently put her pale hand over the top of his gloved hands. “Read it.” She said, as if she could read his mind. Charlie tapped the letter on the table a couple of times before nodding, and removing his gloves to open the letter, as if feeling it would be like feeling Blake.  
He's always struck at what his hand looks like when he takes the glove off. It's pale, but scarred. Despite Blake's best efforts to save the hand, he still only had about what he estimated to be seventy percent mobility in it. The skin was darkened and thick in some places, where it was most scarred (the back of his hand, mostly) he had no fingernails on that hand, and it still hurt sometimes, especially in winter when the skin naturally tightens. It's hardly the first time that Mattie's seen his bad hand, but she still looks a bit shocked at seeing it.  
“Don't look at me like that. You used to help me change the bandages on this hand.” He huffed.  
“I know...It's still a shock...I forgot you had hands underneath those gloves.” Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed softly.  
“I wish I could forget I had hands inside the gloves.”  
“It's really not as bad as you think.” She said, putting her hand on top of the burnt one, and then pressing his letter closer to him. “Read it.” She murmured, and pulled her hand back. 

'My dear Charlie 

Unfortunately it would seem that I'm not going to be around long enough to see you again. It's disappointing, but true. I hope that you're looking after yourself in Melbourne, and that you haven't seen me as overbearing these last few years, because that wasn't my intention. 

I want you to know that I'm not mad or disappointed in you in any way at all. I can understand why you'd never want to come back to Ballarat. I'm just sad that I won't be able to see you when you come back. 

There's something I want you to understand, Charlie. From here, your future is your choice. Lawson and I have tried to steer you onto the right path, but we can only do so much. You will make good choices, and you will make bad choices. But all of these choices will be yours and yours alone. 

I know that you'll do an excellent job at the Superintendent and I hope that you can understand that even though you might have been Davis's son, Lawson's protegee and my friend, above and before all of that, you are Charlie Davis. You'll be great. 

 

Your longtime friend. 

Lucien Blake'

Charlie read the letter with teary eyes, and wiped at his cheek with his hand, before tucking the letter away. Mattie didn't question it's contents. He stood up and smiled.  
“He loved you, Charlie.”  
“I know.” He said softly. “And how did I reply? I locked everyone out and went back to Melbourne.”  
“Maybe you're more like them then you give yourself credit for.”  
“Maybe. Or maybe I'm someone else entirely.” And Mattie got the feeling that she would probably never know. 

The Connelly Boarding house was an ugly building. Charlie had never stayed there, but Danny told him a few interesting pieces of information about it. Even so, he went out of his uniform, but tucked his photo of Lawson away in his pocket, after removing it from the frame. He also took a box of chocolates with him. He supposes if he's going to interrupt someones afternoon, he should probably make it worth their while. 

“And he's in there?” He asked, before smiling at the woman (Who seemed to be a little to pale and very tired) before he knocked.  
“Come in!” Munro shouted from the inside. Somethings never change. Charlie opened the door and set the tray on the desk Munro was sitting at. There were two cups of tea sitting on it, along with two chocolates on each saucer. Munro leant back in his chair and looked up at him. “What do you want, Davis?” He asked. Charlie poured two cups of tea, and at on the bed. It seemed that Munro's roomate was out.  
“To be totally honest, Munro? I'd love a chat.”  
“A chat?”  
“Between two secret keepers.” Munro put a sugar cube into his tea, and stirred it thoughtfully.  
“Fine. But only because you brought me chocolates. Did the O'Brain girl tell you to bring those?”  
“She doesn't know.”  
“Ah. Too afraid to tell them?”  
“More like that I don't want to bother her when she has a patient. And well...She is still sort of annoyed at you for you know…Trying to have Blake fired.”  
“Seems that was my last mistake, wasn't it? Ballarat ruined me.”  
“I think that it ruins everyone.” Munro nodded.  
“Even you?”  
“Even me.” After taking a sip. Munro looked up at him.  
“You were always a beautiful child.”  
“Did you see me often?”  
“Only once in person, but your father had so much to say about you...”  
“Did he?”  
“Yes. He did.”  
“I wanted, I suppose, to do for you what he did for me. You never needed it.”  
“I needed someone to take me under their wing when I was six, and my dad didn't come home one night. I needed someone when I was eight, and we were kicked out of our house. I needed someone when I was sixteen and got my kicks beating people up on the street. But at twenty six, I didn't need anyone.”  
“And how are you at thirty eight?”  
“I need Mattie and Danny. I can't do everything alone forever.”  
“Smart lad.” Munro said, and took another sip of tea. “Are you going to tell them?”  
“I told them some of it.”  
“Good lad.” Charlie smiled at Munro for a moment.  
“You know..Danny said that to me the other day..About being ruins.”  
“Well we are, aren't we?”  
“I think we are.” He agreed. “But you know something else?” Munro raised his eyerows.  
“I don't think I'd have it any other way.” Munro took a thoughtful sip of his tea, before he looked back at Charlie.  
“Is that so?” Charlie nodded. Munro offered him a little smile, and held up his tea cup. Charlie clinked his against the other mans.  
“To being ruins, then.” He smiled. Munro took a sip and nodded.  
“To being ruins. “

…

“Did you hate me?”  
“Huh?” Charlie asked, he'd almost been asleep on the couch next to Danny, book open in his lap.  
“Before. Did you hate me?”  
“Why would you think that?”  
“Mattie says...That you were in my shadow…”  
“No. Of course not.”  
“Not even when I broke down and trashed the studio?”  
“I was pissed off at you, but no. I didn't hate you. “  
“Are you sure?” Danny asked, looking at Charlie with a strange openess in his eyes that Charlie had never seen before.  
“No. What would I possibly gain, from hating a man I didn't even know.”  
“After you left, I think I hated you.”  
“Did you?”  
“You were all the doctor talked about for months. When I cam back, suddenly I was put to work being your carer and I hated you.” There's a space between them. A rift that's always been there, hidden behind broken hearts and teary eyes. They had to face facts, they were two very different men forced together by a singular being.  
“Do you hate me now?”  
“No. How could I?” Charlie leant over and pulled Danny close to him.  
“I was just so angry at you...But now I think I understand it. Why you left the way you did.”  
“Do you?”  
“It's grief, isn't it? It eats you from the inside.”  
“Yes. It is.”  
“I can hardly deal with it and I have so many friends and family to help. You did it alone.”  
“And do you know what? If I had my time again, I would have stayed.”  
“Would you?”  
“I was miserable in Melbourne. I just sat in my empty house, ordering enough milk for six people, sleeping in my childhood bedroom and spraying my mum's perfume on her old bed sheets. It was no life to be lived.”  
“Are you happy here?”  
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Are you?” Danny sighed softly and looked at the blank TV for a moment.  
“I think it's better, now that you're here.”

…

Dear Blake Lucien. 

 

I apologize for not having written sooner, hopefully you can forgive my tardiness on replying to your letters.  
I do enjoy getting them. It's nice to be reminded that I am not alone in the world. Thank you for the money. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I paid off my debts, and with what was left, I brought a popcorn machine for the club. Tyneman was furious with me, but everyone else thought it was a fantastic idea. I'm sure you'd have approved. He called me the next generation of mess makers, and he's probably right. What sort of son would I be if I wasn't keeping family traditions in place? 

I hope you don't mind me thinking of myself as your son, I don't think you would. I think you'd enjoy it, even. I did miss you, when I was in Melbourne. And I'm sorry I wasn't able to get to town fast enough to see you off. I hope you weren't in pain. I'm so sorry that I was so lost in the past that I didn't see that the future needed me as well, and that I couldn't see the family I had in front of me. 

But enough sad times, let's talk happy times. I made amends with Munro. Danny says you'd beat me black and blue but I disagree. I also made peace with Lawson. I think this is the last ghost in my proverbial machine I need to get rid of. I told Mattie and Danny some of what happened. They don't need to know it all, thank you for keeping it secret all these years. 

I suppose that this is the start of something new, then? Maybe it is. Maybe this is where my life really starts. I'm excited to see the rest of it. I'm excited to see it with Mattie and Danny. I think that I've felt more alive in the past few months then I have in over ten years. And I want to keep it that way. 

Thank you for everything. 

Your son, 

Charlie Davis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> WOW WE DID IT KIDS  
> ITS FINISHED  
> Thanks for reading y'all. I hope you all enjoyed the wonderful misadventures of Charlie Mattie and Danny  
> Where are we going from here, then? Well I'm going to write a fic I dreamed up (literally) as well as finish Entertainment, maybe start the last part of About Charlie Davis (in that order, probably) so don't worry. There's plenty of Charlie Davis is sad fics on the way, lol.  
> As always, reviews are appreciated, tell me what you thought of the story, I'd love to know! Either way, thanks for sticking with me! I hope you had as much fun as I did.


End file.
